Tempest's Favourite Son
by Crimson Voltaire
Summary: "You. Abandoned. Me... I'll play your petty game no more Father!" Lucifer has a discussion with God. Contains spoilers for episode 6. Rated T for mild language and discriptions of blood.
**Author's Note:** **Lucifer, his story and everything associated with it do not belong to me. They belong to the screen writers, the bible, or the guy holding the end is near sign, depending on who you want to believe...**

 **In all seriousness, the idea and writing are mine, the rest is not.**

 **Takes place after season 1 episode 6.**

 **Forgive any spelling, grammatical or other errors. I did this on my phone and I do not have a Beta reader.**

 **Tempest's Favourite Son**

" _Someone's got them, Mazikeen... Someone's got my wings..."_

Thunder rumbles in the distance, eerie in it's softness, like the clap of angel wings ready to take flight. Lucifer lays among his silken sheets with Maze naked beside him save for a delightfully small pair of shorts, half asleep and half awake... Between, as she always has been.

Lucifer rolls onto his back, dread and something else roiling in his belly, dark eyes - eyes so dark and human, falling on his most faithful; the scar of Hell's fire still mars her beautiful face. He reaches out, finger tips just brushing the burnt and puckered flesh, soothing circles.

Suddenly, rain comes pouring down outside, smashing into the windows with all the fury of his righteous brethren. The wind howls, and somehow, Lucifer thinks, this is Father's way of showing his displeasure... Not that He really has control of the weather on this little blue marble, mind you. Lucifer huffs, a painful smirk spreading across his features, dark eyes glossy as he pushes himself upright, away from Maze.

She stirs, slightly, as the sheets pool around Lucifer's waist, her hand reaching out for his. "Hush," he murmurs, and pats her hand, before shuffling away.

The air is cool, floorboards smooth, unlike the rocky floors of Hell, and five years on it still pleases Lucifer to walk along these smooth slats. He makes his way through the flat to his bar, pouring himself a single shot of malt, and tossing it back like it's cheap vodka.

It burns, going down, fire pooling in his belly and once again Lucifer is reminded of Hell. And his wings... His missing wings.

"Damnit." He hisses, slamming the cut crystal down against the granite of the bar, almost tempted to squeeze it until it shatters, until blood - warm and metallic and sticky - oozes down his wrist.

What it would be, to feel the searing pain, so much like that he endured when Maize, his faithful Maze, severed them from his body.

Lucifer chuckles, shaking his head, and lightning illuminates the dark flat.

The wind shrieks again, like the souls of the damned, crying out for mercy. Lucifer turns to watch the storm rage outside, thoughts warring in his mind.

"Damnit. Damnit all..."

Lucifer strides forward, muscles tensing, and flings the doors open, stepping out into the torrent. The rain pelts his naked flesh, and he stands before the raging gale as he once did before his father; defiant, angry, hurt. If God is watching, then it's time he sees what he's done.

"I am your favourite, eh?!" Lucifer screams to the sky, arms outstretched like the wings he once had, palms up, water dripping down from his cropped hair and into his eyes, before falling from his lashes and down his cheeks. His eyes sting... Tears or rain he doesn't care.

"Your son! Your light-bringer! I am your golden child!"

A laugh, raw and hysterical claws it's way up out of his throat... It reminds him so much of himself.

"I am your favourite! Cast out! Cast aside! For what?! How am I to embrace myself when my own _father_ refused to! You shunned me! You. Abandoned. Me!"

His throat hurts, aches. "And now! Now I will do the same to you! I will play your petty game no more, Almighty! No more! I am never going back to Hell! _Never_!"

He is lost, in the rain, voice whipped away by the wind and carried to the heavens.

Lucifer stands there, panting, eyes wild like a beast's, glittering like blood. He crumples, clinging to the railing - he tries to catch his breath, heart thrumming in his chest cavity.

The weight of his words sits in his brain... Never going back to Hell... Never... Never embrace himself if he can't find his wings...

His wings...

His wings...

 _Someone's got my wings_.

Lucifer screams, bashing his fist against concrete... Around him, the city sings, uncaring... Inside, Maze slumbers on. Surrounded by people, with the Almighty's fury beating down, the favourite son has never felt more alone.

 **A/N: Well, what do you think? I'm not following the comics at all, so I sort of fudged how Mazikeen got her scar. A review would be lovely, if you could spare the time!** **Constructive** **criticism only please. :)**


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